CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO TINA
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
T INA
Castillo is on the phone when Tina reaches his office.
“Okay, thanks.” He lowers his phone and pushes his chair back.
Tina steps inside the small room, holding her opened laptop in front of her chest, her pulse racing. “I think I’ve found the identity of the male passenger traveling as Chad Wickham.”
Castillo remains seated as Tina strides toward him and sets her laptop on his desk.
“I ran the deceased intruder at Rossi’s home through our database using the driver’s license Pratt found on him and learned that he spent the last four years at Otisville Federal for internet crime. He was released earlier this year.” She crosses her arms. “So I went through every Otisville prisoner released this year and compared their photos to Chad Wickham’s driver’s license.” She nods toward her laptop screen. “And I found him. Conner Abrams. He was let out from his three-year sentence for third-degree robbery last March and could easily pass for Chad Wickham. He served in the navy for six years, from 2005 to 2011, and was a Navy SEAL for the last four. Both men are five eleven, have brown eyes, brown hair, and very similar facial features.” She pivots to face Castillo. “I think this is who we’re looking for.”
“Good work. Send me his photo, and I’ll get it out to our search team. Get me his address, too, and I’ll send a patrol car to make sure he’s not home.” He stands from his chair. “The search team up north just found the female passenger’s body suspended in a tree near Otisco Lake. She had a parachute but sustained severe head injuries from her fall and was impaled by a tree limb through her broken neck. They cut her down and declared her dead at the scene.”
She cringes, envisioning the woman’s mangled body dangling from the tree. She swallows, wondering how her male conspirator fared—and baby Liam.
Conner Abrams’s Navy SEAL training would make him an expert parachuter. If he has Liam, and he kept hold of him during the jump, there’s a chance the boy is alive.
Tina covers her mouth with her hand. “Did they find the male passenger? Or the baby?” She braces herself for the answer to her second question, unsure if she can stomach the answer.
Castillo presses his lips into a hard line. “No. Not yet. Ruiz called before I got the news about the female parachuter. They’ve done a preliminary search of the aircraft, and there’s no sign of the missing infant.” He points a finger toward her. “You know the Finger Lakes area well from your time there as a kid?”
Tina nods. “Very well.”
He reaches for the bulletproof vest hanging on the wall beside his desk and dons it over his head. “Our Black Hawk is taking a SWAT team up north to join the search. The pilot wasn’t too excited to be flying in this weather, but the visibility has improved enough to go. It’s a good thing our chopper was already parked on the roof, because the pilot said it will be much easier to take off than it would have been to land. I’m going with them. I want you to come too.”
“What?” Has he forgotten I work behind a desk? Just the thought of flying through a storm in a Black Hawk with a SWAT team makes her heart race. “I don’t know that I’m—”
“I need someone with us who’s familiar with the area.” He strides past her. “Send me that info, and I’ll find you a bulletproof vest. Then meet me on the roof. We’re leaving in five.”
Speechless, Tina lifts her laptop and hurries back to her cubicle.
The floor is now brightly lit and bustling with activity: phones, people talking, fax machine beeps, and the chatter of keyboards as she passes several colleagues on her way to her desk. But all she can hear is her pulse pounding in her ears.
When she reaches her desk, she sets down her laptop and sends Conner Abrams’s information to Castillo without sitting down.
“Here you go.”
She turns to Castillo standing behind her, holding out a bulletproof vest.
“It’s just a precaution,” he adds, seeing the fear in her eyes.
She pulls it on, surprised by how heavy it is.
“Let’s go.” Castillo is already heading for the elevators.
Tina hurries after him, her pulse spiking at the rain pelting against the windows.
“You been on a chopper before?” he asks.
“Never.”
“Today might be a bit of a rough ride.”
When they reach the top floor, she hears the whir of the Black Hawk’s blades and the drone of its two jet engines. During their elevator ride, Castillo explained they’d be using a thermal camera attached to the helicopter to search the forested area surrounding the Finger Lakes. As she follows Castillo onto the roof, she’s hit with a rush of wind, unsure if the gust is from the storm or the chopper.
Adrenaline courses through her as she climbs inside the long, black helicopter and takes a seat beside Castillo, facing the tail. Across from them, a SWAT member hands them each a black-and-mint green headset.
“Put these on!” he yells.
Tina’s hand trembles as she dons the headset. The door beside her slides closed, and they lift away from the building. When the tail elevates into the air, she’s forced against the back of her seat and grips Castillo’s arm.
He turns, looking startled, and she releases her grip.
“Sorry,” she says into her mouthpiece. But her voice is drowned out by the rhythmic thump of the blades spinning overhead.